


all your sins all over me

by SinSmith



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Anal, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Asphyxiation, BDSM, Blood, Bloodplay, Bondage, Bottom Julian Devorak, Choking, Cunnilingus, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Deepthroating, Dom/sub, F/M, Foursome, Foursome - F/M/M/M, Humiliation, Japanese Rope Bondage, M/M, Masochism, Men Crying, Multi, Nadia is in charge, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, PWP, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Praise Kink, Rope Bondage, Rough Oral Sex, Sadism, Size Kink, Spanking, Sub Julian Devorak, Switch Asra (The Arcana), Top Lucio (The Arcana), Top Nadia (The Arcana), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-07 04:13:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17953388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinSmith/pseuds/SinSmith
Summary: Julian Devorak is in over his head, but he's sure its nothing he doesn't deserve. He wants to take any punishment his Count and Countess deign to give him, but can he?





	all your sins all over me

**Author's Note:**

> Fulfilling this prompt from tumblr: 
> 
> "iunia-kallistrate said:  
> Arcana prompt: Count Lucio's parties are always worth talking about, but never for reasons anyone can actually remember. The Count always picks his favorites for a more private (and occasionally very public) party. (Aka Lucio and your pick/s getting debauched at a masquerade)"
> 
> My pick was all, I picked all of them.
> 
> Beta'd by jayemgriffin

“Had enough? Or should I hit you again?” The voice is drawn with playful venom, a smile like a knife.    
  
The bound man’s head is bowed, arms forced behind his back with black, knotted ropes. His chest heaves, white shirt in tatters over his back. The bare skin revealed is striped with red lashes, angry welts and the lines of claw marks that have broken the skin. Red blood drips down his naked back over his hip, the trim curve of his rear; legs bare. Sweat drips from his brow, down the peak of his nose, falling onto the floor. Ragged breaths shudder over his lips, just barely pushing aside the dark, damp ringlets.   
  
“No. Hit me again, please. Count.” Julian’s voice is low, husky but not broken, his dark grey eyes lifted to eye the shirtless, glittering peacock wielding the whip.    
  
“He’s rather a glutton for punishment, isn’t he? I wouldn’t have expected it, Dr Devorak. I was under the impression doctors are usually sadists.” They are wearing masks but that doesn’t mean any of their identities is a secret; and that lilting, lovely voice comes from Countess Nadia herself. Julian remembers she is watching, can feel her eyes on his bloody back, his naked, bruised thighs and straining erection. He flushes red just thinking about it, hanging his head because gods, it's easier to do that than think about her and what she must see in him. “It’s beautiful,” she continues, and the words fall from her lips like the highest praise, reverence he does not deserve.   
  
“My love?” Lucio now, asking permission he does not need but craves as well. All silently, secretly yearning for her approval.    
  
“Continue.”    
  
“Your wish is my command.” Lucio’s smile is nearly besotted, though Julian loses all conscious thought as the whip lashes against the raw skin of his ass, drawing more cruel lines across his flesh. His whole body strains against biting ropes, a beautiful arc of agony and endurance. It's delicious, the sin and the punishment that comes with it. He’s a filthy creature, he knows, and he savors the brutal touch that puts him in his place.    
  
“Count them.”    
  
“Yes, my lord. One-” Crack, feeling fresh welts forming on his thighs. “Two.” Crack. The force makes him nearly crumple forward, barely balancing against his restraints. “Three.” Crack. “Four.” Crack. “F-five.” Crack. “... s-six... “ Crack. “Sir… fuck! Seven, sir!”   
  
“Careful, Count, you’ll break him before you ever get him to safeword.” Nadia, again, her voice like molten silk against his trembling limbs. She is a calming presence, generally, but he makes the mistake of looking up at her. Her body, golden brown limbs catching the candle-light, the ball gown long gone in favor of a sheer robe hitched up wickedly over one full thigh. There’s something luxurious and heady about her, and in the dim light of this play room she is lush and glistening. He traces with his good eye a line of sweat that lovingly trails down her jaw and along her collarbone.    
  
Because Nadia is not simply watching, it dawns on him, with her full lips parted like a Renaissance painting and brows drawn up into something between a cry and a plea that she’s willed into silence. The countess is trailing her long fingers over a toned back; the figure between her thighs, making her gasp, is just out of sight.    
  
“Breaking him is rather the point, isn’t it?” A derisive sneer from Lucio.   
  
“Break me and not give me the opportunity to sample your cock, Count? It would be a waste, wouldn’t it, to deprive me of such an honor.”   
  
“Hah! Mouthy when you’re hard, I see. I think we can find a better use for that mouth. But first…” The blonde slides over to a table, leaving Julian just suspended like that, arms back and barely balancing where he is bent in half. He breathes, headily, feeling sweat drip down his forehead, the strain in his forearms, and the red welts already forming on his skin. He’s a mess of blood and sweat and wanting; he expects, reveres, the fact that he’ll be more of a mess before they’re done.    
  
That’s when cold lube pours over his bare ass. Lucio suddenly enters his field of vision, red blood dappling his pale skin, sinking into the open white shirt. What really makes Julian’s eyes shoot wide, however, is the toy in Lucio’s hand. It’s impressively large, thicker at the head, and fucking golden because /of course/ it is. “What your diagnosis, doctor?” The smirk on his face is purely sadistic, Lucio enjoying the expression of excitement and trepidation that flashes over Julian’s face, the way his bottom lip quivers only to be bitten. 

 

“Please, Luc- Count…” 

 

“Please /what/?” 

 

“I, please, it’s too big, I couldn’t possibly-” 

 

“I mean, I could always finger you first.” A look of relief melts over Julian’s worried face, but just as he’s about to agree, the Count flashes his golden hand, making a claw of his exquisite, bladed gold fingers. Concern is replaced with horror- he wouldn’t, he couldn’t /possibly/-

  
“Or…” Lucio offers the toy again with a graceful flourish of those golden talons. It's a vicious expression, a devil’s bargain, but the fear is intoxicating. Julian doubts he’d feel as safe without the audience’s watchful, er, /presence/ but protected as he is, the threat falls just this side of tempting. He imagines what it would feel like, fucked open by those talons, rending and begging and pleading- he swallows thickly and hangs his head.    
  
“The toy, please, I’ll take the toy.” 

  
“Very good.”   
  
The bound doctor puts more weight against the ropes that wrap around his chest, biting into the meat of him. He tries to will himself to relax even as he feels the cold metal pushing against his entrance; it’s brutal and unyielding, even as Lucio rubs it against him, working it in with slow, firm pushes. They’re teasing, at first, a threat- but then more pressure. 

 

Slowly, he opens around it, and Lucio relishes the way he squirms. It's quite the sight; this tall, noble (appearing, at least) creature bent entirely to his will. Julian who is so boastful, cocky until exactly the moment he isn’t, curled beneath his claws. Filthy, debauched, needy.    
  
The count forces the dildo deeper suddenly, a filthy squelch of lube as Julian lets out a rough, low growl. Pleasure and pain in equal measure. The flesh and blood hand grips the flesh of his ass, spreading him, red eyes watching, fixated, at the stretch of that tight ring of muscle. A hungry, humiliating burn. “Who would have known you were such a size queen, Julian.”   
  
A heady groan is his only answer, and a flush that mottles his back up to his ears.    
  
Lucio grips his red curls and yanks his head up. Julian is ready for the onslaught, to be full, fucked hard and brutally until his legs give out from under him, when a whimper from the nearby divan catches his ear. 

 

That sight isn’t one he’ll soon forget. Nadia’s robe has half fallen off her, sheer fabric caressing dusky nipples, body a beautiful panel of golden skin and jewelry. Her thighs have parted, now, to reveal the man between them; lithe muscle, a colorful scarf around his bare hips, and a shock of white hair. They’re a tableau of wickedness, the two of them, the countess silencing herself on her own fingers, her hungry gasps falling over them as she arches her hips up, forward, seeking him.    
  
Asra’s hands grip her thighs like a lifeline; not restraining her, no, urging her on as his head ducks between her thighs time and again. It's a desperate shift of Nadia’s hips that bares the pair of them to their audience; suddenly visible are the slick lips of her cunt and Asra as he presses into her, his perfect bowed mouth sucking at her like she’s the most delicious fruit he’s ever tasted. His violet eyes are shut, dark lashes against his hollowed cheeks, his pink tongue undoing her with absolute enthusiasm. There is a fond delight in his eyes as one flicks open, watching her expression for a moment as he slides a second finger into her cunt. Laughter as warm as honey at the indignant look she gives him for his forwardness; followed by bright, subservience as she tangles her fingers in his hair, guiding him back to his task. “Yes, ma’am…”   
  
Its Lucio’s moan that breaks their silence, and it's only then that either of them realize that they’ve both fallen still, fixated. “Fuck.” Acrid, the count forces himself out of his reverie, instead forcing the half-free golden dildo all the way inside of the helpless body before him. Julian cries out, straining against the ropes that hold him aloft, body arching impossibly at the huge size filling him. Its so big, he’s so turned on, he’s like a vicious, raw nerve. Just straining and whimpering.    
  
“Please, sir, please may I-” 

  
“No.”

  
“Please, I’ll do anything, please-”

  
“You will. And for now, I want you to keep this inside you until I say- understood? You drop it… well. You know the alternative.” Lucio slaps his ass roughly, the golden claws grazing his hip bone. 

  
“Y-yessir. I understand.”

  
“Good boy. We should put on a show for them, shouldn’t we? Would hate to lose our audience.” 

He’s teasing, almost, but there’s a hint of jealousy at the fact that Nadia and Asra have distracted them from their own play. It's a slow saunter that brings him before the suspended doctor, talons leaving a line of red marks in their wake; Julian hisses, looking up at the golden half-mask looming above him. “Let’s put that mouth to good work, shall we?”    
  
Torturously slow, nimble fingers undo his pants, pausing to rub the outline of his need through the fabric. Julian’s mouth waters and Lucio laughs out loud, grabbing a fistful of his hair. “By the gods, you desperate little slut. That eager to serve your Count? Well, who wouldn’t be. Go on, then. Beg for it.” A challenge as he tugs Julian forward, grinding his face against the outline of his cock, smearing his lips against the white fabric.    
  
“F-fuck- please, please Count- let me taste your cock.”

  
“Let you what?”

  
“I want to-” He pauses, remembering who is sitting just a few feet away, his cheeks turning a florid red. 

  
“Go on. It's not like you to be at a loss for words. I said /beg/.” There’s a rough slap across his cheek, the sting echoing through his mind, his whole body throbbing; pain covering his back and thighs, the needy pulse of his cock, the huge toy inside of him. He has no options, so he just lets out one shuddering sob. 

  
“Please, sir, I want your cock. Please, I want to taste you, choke on you, make you cum, please-”

  
“Who said anything about what /you/ want?” A desperate little sob comes from Julian. Its not working and he needs to, he can’t- 

  
“Sir, please fuck my mouth. Please use me. Make me gag. Please. Count.” He looks up at Lucio, absolutely entreating, his red curls damp against his forehead, mask long gone. Trembling and desperate.

  
“Much better. Far be it for me to deny one of my subjects a taste of glory. I am such a generous Count.” A dark laugh at his own joke, freeing his cock from his pants.    
  
A languid stroke, then another, brings his length against Julian’s flushed cheeks, thrusting against his cheekbone once, then twice, leaving a smear of precum in his wake. So pretty like that, pained and suffering and absolutely willing. “I could wreck you for years, has anyone ever told you that?” Lucio murmurs, brushing his metal thumb over Julian’s lip, enjoying the way it presses into the fragile, plush skin. The closest to tenderness he’s shown all night.   
  
It's just enough to make Julian’s eyes widen; the praise he so desperately needs scores into the heart of him, leaving marks, drawing a high keening noise from him. He can’t even manage the word ‘please’, but Lucio doesn’t mind all that; instead, he grips Julian’s hair and slides his cock into the man’s waiting mouth. Dark lips, wine red, part around his length; stretching for him as those dark eyes shut tightly, moaning with pleasure as the taste hits him. He allows a few slow, exploratory sucks; allows the messy, enthusiastic way that Julian drags his tongue around his length before he bores of it.    
  
Without warning, Lucio takes charge of the matter, gripping the harness behind Julian’s shoulder blades. He pulls out halfway, then begins to fuck into his mouth, stuffing him full. The lean man beneath him has no option but to open his mouth wider, accepting his punishment; each thrust pushes deeper into his straining mouth, forcing the heavy length within until it makes him gag, choking on each punishing thrust. His nose fills with the scent of Lucio: dripping cologne, the tang of hunger and blood, the power wielded with a golden fist.   
  
“Oh, /that/ they like. You like the way your pet doctor sounds choking on my cock, Asra?”    
  
“I prefer the way he sounds choking on mine.”   
  
“Hmph.” Lucio just growls, though the aggravation is lessened by the moan of pleasure as he uses Julian, forcing his way in and out of his willing mouth. He forces himself deeper, knowing they’re both watching. Julian can feel their eyes on his naked, filthy body as he’s used. Knowing he’s a disaster, saliva dripping down his chin as Lucio fucks deep into his throat, keeping him pinned there, his nose brushing against coarse blonde hair. “Look at me.” He can’t breathe, keeps choking, gagging, but he wants to- he wants to be good- slowly his lashes flutter open, tears forming at the edges of his tired eyes. His body starts to struggle, thrashing just a touch, but he’s helpless to move or resist.    
  
“Lucio.” It’s Nadia again. “I want him.” Lucio doesn’t relent, even as Julian gags and struggles, turning red. He starts to see stars, panicking with his desire to be good and not bite and keep open and- “Breathing.”   
  
A growl of displeasure, but he tugs his cock free; a line of saliva connects the man’s bruised mouth to his hard on. Lucio shoves him away sharply, one talon grazing Julian’s brow. Blood blooms on his pale skin. He leaves Julian a coughing, tragic mess before walking around behind him. Julian barely registers the golden ring slid up over his throbbing erection, mirroring the throbbing pulse in his whole body as blood returns to circulation. He’s so hard that even Lucio’s rough touches feel like heave. Precum and spit dripping down his chin, he is helpless to fix himself. It is in this state that Lucio releases him from the ties suspending him. He collapses to his knees in an undignified heap, though the count quickly yanks him upward.    
  
“Didn’t you hear the countess? She wants you. Though I can’t imagine why.” There is a touch of disdain, mockery, as he tugs at the rope harness around Julian’s battered body. Tight muscles move to inch forward; he can’t look at her, his head lowered, and with his arms still bound behind his back, he topples to the ground at Lucio’sslightest push. Landing on one shoulder on the marble floor, he whimpers tragically, still unable to look up at them- the countess and the Magician. It's a broken little noise, his face pressed into the cold floor, but Lucio doesn’t allow it for more than a moment.    
  
“Up. You’ve got a /service/ to perform, wretch.”    
  
Julian is yanked to his knees, forced to half-crawl across the expanse to where Nadia is reclining. He’s ready to die of embarrassment from letting her, letting them, see him in such a state. He tries to curl in on himself, breath coming in quicker and quicker, more desperate-   
  
“Julian. Look at me.” It’s Nadia’s voice again, calm and quiet, and he can’t disobey as her fingers brush his chin, tilting his head upwards. He sees her above him, resplendent and glistening, nude except for her jewelry now, her face impossibly regal. And behind her, draped over her sharp shoulders, is Asra, his violet eyes smiling down at Julian, one hand holding Nadia’s arm. A reminder, perhaps, or a request?    
  
If either of them are repulsed at the sight of him, they hide it well. Nadia traces her fingers through his red hair, carefully avoiding the trail of blood running down his cheek. “What do you think, pretty pet? Would you like to please me?” She’s stunning, her expanses of flawless copper skin, the softness of her thighs, the plush lines of her hips and waist, the curves of her breasts, her burgundy hair falling down her shoulder. He can barely believe someone like her would- would ever even let-    
  
“Has anyone ever said no to that?” He exhales, reverently, and its enough to make Nadia laugh, a low, warm note.    
  
“There’s a first for everything.”    
  
Julian summons a smile, his eyes drawn to Asra’s face: a calm in the storm, so much unspoken. He takes a steadying breath, panic receding as he leans in to press a kiss to Nadia’s bare thigh. Her fingers guide his head to the heat of her, and he looks up at her for just a moment- savoring this, savoring the service he’s being asked to do. She smells sweet and hot and incredibly aroused- Asra’s doing, most likely, but perhaps the Count- him…? Julian shudders, waiting for her quiet command of “Go on.” Then he drags his tongue against her folds, lapping up the slick, exploring her body with earnest desire. He groans as he serves her, moaning his devotion, finding her clit and rounding it, rubbing with the tip of his tongue, fixed on his task. Drinking in the noises of her above him, he takes a strange satisfaction in the heat in her voice, needier than she was with Asra. Her knees hook over his shoulder, and her fingers reach down to spread herself for him, goading him forward. Demanding more.   
  
A desperate groan presses into her as Lucio tugs free the dildo inside of him; there’s no pomp and circumstance this time. It's just long enough for Julian to lament the loss, the empty space within him, tight hole clenching around nothing and making him sob once, twice, writhing his bare ass toward Lucio. Silently begging. It's good enough for the peacock of a count, who grips his hip with one hand before brutally forcing his whole length inside of Julian.   
  
It makes him scream out loud, the brutal push and the punishing talons cutting into his hip. His world spins from the pain and the new fullness, the count’s cock smaller than the massive toy but so much warmer and deeper and /crueler/. He sees stars and forgets his task for a blurry, dizzy moment; he can’t tell if he imagined or heard the disapproving ‘tsk’ from Nadia. Nadia, or Asra?    
  
His whole world disappears into Lucio fucking into his ass, utterly punishing. For all of his flourishes and dandyism, he’s certainly athletic: all smooth lines of muscle, designed for brutality. The doctor whimpers tragically, his thighs forced together by the man using him- it makes him so much tighter, makes the drag and thrust and pull of the cock in and out of his ass so much worse, so much better.    
  
Nadia cries out above him, and he looks up helplessly; her eyes are tightly shut, her back arched. Asra’s fingers cup one supple breast, confident fingers rubbing a pert nipple as his mouth works her neck. His other hand spreading her thighs, and- and-    
  
Julian makes a helpless noise, his cheek forced into the soft cushion of the divan, just inches away from where Asra works his cock in and out of Nadia’s cunt. That shock of white hair at the base. His length expertly pressing and twisting up inside her; fingers spreading her open. For him, to show him. Look. Learn. Want.    
  
And he does, he does desperately. He strains forward, bound as he is, and Nadia grips his hair to help him. The count is still fucking him, picking up the pace, and he feels his skin on fire. Just a mess of sweat and blood and arousal, but he still pushes forward. Wanting. He wants… his tongue meets Nadia’s swollen lips again, finding the base of Asra’s cock within her; the countess cries out above him and he must be doing something right. He can hear Asra whispering sweet encouragements into the shell of her ear, supporting her body with impressive ease. “-you’re so beautiful like this- I can taste your heartbeat, your need, and its exquisite; can’t you feel his mouth around you, praying to you, on his knees, /devoted/, while I coax you closer and closer to the inevitable-” 

  
Julian can’t do anything else, he wants to be a part of it; so he keeps chasing her moans, feeling Asra’s cock against his tongue, his lips, as he savors her slickness. Sensations assault him from every angle: the heady scent of her, the feeling of Asra fucking her and rocking through the both of them, the brutal onslaught from Lucio, each thrust pounding into him with biting pain and the rough, hungry drag of his waiting ass. He wants so desperately to come, every inch of his body on fire, Lucio’s cock forcing against his most sensitive parts with each punishing thrust; he’s brutalized, used, aching, and he can’t- he can’t-   
  
He feels the tears before he’s aware of them, staining his cheeks.   
  
Nadia comes first, or second or third he’s lost track, crying out heatedly as the dual pleasures of Julian’s mouth and Asra’s cock undo her; her slick coats his cheek and lips, her thighs tremble around his shoulders, burying him deeper into her cunt until she finally releases him. Julian licks himself clean, licks /her/ clean as best he can. “Good boy,” the countess murmurs, fingers smoothing his hair before she leans back to kiss Asra; their kiss is smouldering and, as she kisses him, her long fingers wrap around his cock.    
  
She levels Asra with an intense gaze and he swallows thickly, his throat still covered by an ornate golden collar. They stay like that as she strokes him, once, twice, faster, with a wicked sort of grace. Things unsaid pass between them, desire, a battle of wills as she works him until Asra yields, moaning desperately and gripping the cushions behind them; he pumps into her fingers fiercely, his beautiful golden body rocking up against her, head tilted back against the pillows. She keeps him in place, doesn’t let him run, and he releases against her fingers with a shuddering moan of satisfaction, his spend spilling over her fingers and onto her hip. He comes down with tender little gasps, white hair falling into his blissed-out violet eyes.    
  
The countess lowers her fingers to Julian, and he shudders before immediately turning to the task, lapping Asra’s cum off her delicate fingertips.   
  
The sight of Nadia climaxing seems to ignite something in Lucio, something desirous, something jealous, something molten. Firmly, he tugs Julian out of her lap, gripping his bare throat with his golden hand. The strength is crushing, pressing down on his windpipe. Chest to back, hips to ass, Lucio holds him like a fucktoy, a thing to be used and discarded, and pounds into him. Julian can barely breathe, but it just heightens the pleasure this time; he’s rammed into again and again, an impossible stuccato, his mind just cries of desperation he tries to voice. “Please- please, Lucio, let me come, please-” But they get weaker and weaker as the man takes him, release further and further from his grasp. Julian feels the tears on his cheeks, feels his body crying out for air, for release, for anything- pushed to the limitations of what he can take.    
  
His vision blurs; he’s barely aware of Lucio releasing inside of him except that, as he comes to on the floor, he can feel hot spend leaking from his ass; he can hear Lucio above him, standing now. “Shall we, my dear? I’ve had servants working the baths for hours just in case…”   
  
He’s half delirious, his cock aching so badly it hurts, looking up at Lucio. “P-please, sir, let me come- please-” Please don’t leave me, please.    
  
“Oh, you poor thing.” Lucio chuckles, doing back up his slacks, pressing his boot into Julian’s battered cheek. “You’ve already gotten everything I intend to give you. If you’re very lucky… they’ll let you lap it up when I’m gone.”    
  
The silence is excruciating and Julian whimpers, writhing against his bonds on the ground. Tears fall down his face. He’s so hard and he can’t and Lucio will just leave him and- gods, he wants, he needs, anything. Just anything. He’d suck off the first person to walk past if they’d just, please, please-   
  
But it isn’t just anyone who grabs the harness and tugs him to his knees. Its Asra, naked and beautiful, sitting just before him. Julian is sobbing, tears muddling down his cheeks; Asra is composed, perfect, blissed out, and content. Asra grips his jaw. “You need to come?”    
  
"Y-yes, please-I-I-"

  
Asra takes off the ring, but otherwise doesn't touch him. 

  
"Do it."

  
"I-I can't...please, I need-" As Asra's fingers tighten against the bruises on his face, Julian lets out a pathetic sob. 

  
"It wasn't a request, Ilya." Asra’s free hand moves to wrap roughly around Julian’s cock. It’s too sensitive, a raw nerve, all pulsing and sensation; but Asra doesn’t stop, twisting his fingers along Julian’s length. Once, twice- that’s all it takes. It’s too much, overwhelming, he can’t believe he’s allowed- tears fall down his cheeks, a pathetic mess. Julian’s eyes wrench shut, a sobbing cry punching through his teeth as he feels pleasure shoot through his body. The climax wracks through him, stuttering and shuddering, his vision going white as he spills his pleasure into Asra’s hand. His body contorts with the effort and he collapses, unbidden, against Asra’s shoulder.   
  
The world around him fades to black.


End file.
